


Your Loyalty, Jyn Erso

by saltandlimes



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Commandant's Cadets, F/M, Imperial Jyn Erso, Imperial politics and mechanization, POV Jyn Erso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: Senior cadet at the Imperial Officer's Academy and secretly head of the Commandant's Cadets, Jyn Erso is days away from commissioning as the Empire's newest and brightest young officer.Then Director Orson Krennic pays the Academy a surprise visit, and Jyn must decide where her allegiance lies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by [Roberthouse's](http://roberthouse.tumblr.com/) amazing [Imperial Jyn](http://roberthouse.tumblr.com/post/155505604966/well-well-well-well-well) picture.

Jyn wakes up in the middle of the night, sweat drenched, her regulation undershirt clinging to her, the old, dead dark of the bunker pressing against her eyelids. She’s not surprised. It’s always the same dream. 

_“You’ll do great, kid. We’ll be back. Just wait it out till morning. You’re trained for this. I know you’ll be fine.”_

_Saw claps her on the shoulder, hand lingering longer than it should. Then he pulls her around, crushing her to the metallic plating on his chest._

_“Jyn, you have to keep believing. It’s what your father would have wanted, your mother. Jyn, they were good people. You’re a good person too. Just keep to the cause.” A chill runs through her. He almost never talks about her parents, not even in the dark of the night when they are the only people awake in their little band of rebels._ You don’t need to know everything all at once, _he’d always said. She pulls away._

_“What’s happening, Saw?” He takes a deep breath._

_“Nothing, little Jyn. Just hold down the fort till morning. You’ll be fine.” He walks out without a backward glance._

_The hours are long. They are dead silent, except for the occasional booming roar as something outside explodes and rains down shattered earth on the roof of the bunker. At first, Jyn busies herself reading for her escape in the morning. She gathers the equipment the rebels will need when they leave, setting aside things they can replace and finding the few essentials still scattered around._

_About three hours before dawn, there’s an unmistakable roar. She knows that sound like she knows the throb of her own blood in her ears. It’s the sound of Saw’s shuttle._

_Leaving._

_She runs to the spy hole, gets there just in time to see it rush overhead, trailing exhaust and smoke. Just in time to see the only family she’s had in years fly away, leaving her in the dark and the damp and the dead hours of the night where no one can breathe._

_Jyn puts her fist through a console an hour after that. When dawn finally comes, she’s sitting on the floor, a bandage wrapped around her hand, blood leaking onto the floor. That’s where the stormtroopers find her._

And that’s when she wakes. Her hand throbs, though the scars are long gone, washed away in bacta on that first ship. She wakes shaking, terrified that she is back in the bunker, that Saw is walking forward towards her, eyes accusing, blaster trained on her heart. 

It takes long moments staring across the room at the large poster on the wall to remind herself that’s all in the past. Anya’s soft snores echo through the room, and Jyn rolls on her side to look at her roommate. Anya’s blanket has slipped down, and Jyn can see the Imperial cog where it rests high on her chest, emblazoned on her undershirt. She traces its curves slowly, memorizing each angle and each turn of the wheel. 

She is not helpless, sixteen and abandoned in a bunker. She is not that girl anymore. She is better than that. Jyn Erso is someone now, someone who matters. She’ll never again sit alone in the dark, abandoned, bleeding. She turns over and buries her face in her pillow. It smells of clean laundry and hairspray, and she falls back asleep to the careful structure of her new life. 

***

Jyn settles herself into her spot at the breakfast table, glances around at the rest of the Commandant’s Cadets. There’s something buzzing in the air. Anya is whispering to Mak Lantin, and Searle is scribbling furiously in a notebook. She leans forward. 

“So did we get a new friend or something? Why’re you all so riled up.” She fixes Searle with a sharp eye. If there’s news, she should hear it first. She’s the most senior of the Cadets now, just days away from commissioning. Hux will want to know if there’s something going on. Searle looks up, shrugging and flicking dark hair out of his face. 

“Commandant came by.” Jyn raises an eyebrow. Hux hadn’t mentioned visiting the mess the last time they’d spoke. “He wondered where you were.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“Training. What else, Jyn? I know better than to lie to the Commandant.” Jyn hears the unspoken _about you_ as clear as a bell. Searle knows what happened the last time one of the Cadets tried to take Jyn’s spot as de facto leader. Even he’s not stupid enough to try that himself. 

“Yeah and?” She prompts.

“Wanted to tell us there’s some bigshot visiting. I think he’s gonna have you show whoever it is around. Seems not to want him taking too close a look at the program.” Searle chuckles. “I can’t imagine why.” Jyn grins. It wouldn’t be a stretch to call Hux a little paranoid, but even the paranoid are right some of the time. 

“Did he say who this mystery guest is?”

“Some director or something. Real hotshot. The Commandant was almost pissing himself.”

“Language,” Jyn notes absently. Anyone important enough to have Hux on edge is someone she wants to meet. Make a good impression, get a good posting. It’s all right in front of her. 

“Did the Commandant say when he wants me?”

“1015 in the hangar,” Anya drawls. “Said you better look sharp. Apparently the director’s a sucker for a pretty face.” 

“Good thing the Commandant asked for Jyn and not you, then,” Searle grins nastily. Mak reaches across the table and cuffs him on the back of the head. 

“Language again, Searle.” Think time Jyn does look up. It’s one thing to say shit like that in Area Null, but the middle of the mess hall is a different matter. She brushes her hair out of her face. If the Commandant wants her in uniform in 45 minutes, she needs to get going. 

“Searle, since you’re in such fine form, you can deal with that kid in group three who keeps messing with the mouse droid reprogramming. Remind him that the Commandant doesn’t take kindly to chaos in his academy. That stuff might fly in the rest of the Empire, but not here. This is the Commandant’s house, and he doesn’t like people dirtying it.” She pushes back from the table and walks away before she can hear more than the beginning of Searle’s groan. Today is going to be a good day. She doesn’t need to listen to him try to spoil it. 

***

Jyn straightens her tunic before she steps into the hangar. Hair braided, belt tight around her waist. She’s ready for whatever opportunities come her way. She steps into the hangar. 

Hux has a double row of stormtroopers lined up in front of where the shuttle will land. He’s standing at one end, hands clasped behind his back. She stalks across the landing bay, heels clicking on the floor. 

“Erso!” He snaps as she gets close enough that he doesn’t have to raise his voice. “Didn’t see you this morning.” 

“Sir,” She comes to attention sharply. “I was training with the younger cadets. I regret having missed you at breakfast.”

“No matter,” Hux waves a hand. “I’ll fill you in now. The Director has decided to pay us something of a surprise visit. Apparently word of the cadets has been spreading. I trust you’ll give him an appropriate impression of our Academy. And Erso…” His voice shifts and he takes a step closer to her. “Be careful of him. You’ll probably come to understand why. But just be careful.”

Jyn quirks an eyebrow. Hux’s voice has gone soft, and his eyes crinkle at the corner. She nods though. The sirens start to sound, lights flashing as the control tower lowers the hangar shield. The shuttle that spirals down and in is a little out of date, graceful and predatory, long sweeping wings folding up as it settles onto the landing pad. Hux steps away, straightens. His voice comes in an undertone as the shuttle doors start to open in a rush of steam. 

“Be careful, Jyn. Remember your position” Jyn swallows. 

Then all thoughts of Hux, of the Commandant’s Cadets, of her place here, her salvation from the dark of the bunker, from abandonment, it all fades way in the swirl of a white cape. 

She had forgotten about him. 

But as she watches the Director stalk down the row of stormtroopers, death troopers marching behind him in perfect ranks, it all comes crashing back. 

_“Mama, I know that man”_

Almost her last words to her mother. Right before she’d watched as he’d shot Lyra down in the grass. And maybe Lyra had been foolish, running from the Empire. But she was Jyn’s mother, and Jyn’s stomach clenches as the Director gets nearer. 

_“Orson says some people fight just because they’re angry”_

Her father’s voice echoes in her ears, deep. The smell of home and whiskey and the clean cloth of her father’s uniform. Cloves and tabac. Her mother, laughing. Her father smiling. The clink of glasses. 

She clenches her fists behind her back. This is not the time to take a walk down memory lane. The Academy is counting on her. The Commandant is counting on her. She will not throw away the only people who took her in when she cowered, broken and bloody, in a hole in the dirt, abandoned by her father’s replacement. If Hux thinks she needs to be careful, careful she will be. 

“Commandant. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” There’s a lilt to his accent, and even if Jyn hadn’t recognized the uniform, she’d know that voice anywhere. 

“Director Krennic. Welcome to Arkanis, and to the Imperial Officers Academy. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.” His eyes light up, and Jyn almost smirks, despite the sick feeling hovering near the nape of her neck. “I’ve taken the liberty of assigning you a guide for your time here. This is our senior cadet, Jyn Erso.”

There is a long, silent moment. It’s broken by the whip crack of the Director’s voice, tight and sharp.

“Who, Hux?” His hands come up, and Jyn half expects him to grab Hux around the throat. She steps forward. 

“Cadet Erso, sir!” She snaps to attention. “I hope you’ll enjoy your time here. If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, just ask.” His eyes sweep up and down her, as though cataloguing every curve of her body, every inch of her skin that peaks out from underneath her uniform. As though marking them out, perhaps searching for some familiarity. But then he turns back to Hux. 

“Explain, Hux. Now.” A finger quirks, and the death troopers take a step forward, flanking him, a perfect counterpoint to his pure white. 

“There’s nothing to explain. Cadet Erso has an exemplary record, all correctly logged and filed with the Bureau of Imperial Education. She did begin her stint at the academy a little late, as I recall, but she’s more than made up for the lost time. I have nothing but praise for her work here. 

“I don’t care about her fucking work.” A drop of spit lands on Hux’s cheek, and Jyn shivers. She’s never seen anything like this, not even in her memories of the rebels. There’s something incredible to it, to seeing someone stand up to Hux like this. Krennic’s voice drops and he steps forward, one hand coming to rest on Hux’s shoulder. 

“Hux, what I want to fucking know is why you didn’t tell me she was here.” Hux pulls away, steps past Krennic towards the shuttle. The death troopers close ranks in front of him. He turns back to faces Krennic. 

“There were no directives to report her. I’m sure if Cadet Erso or I had thought she was wanted, we would have contacted you.”

“You knew.” Krennic snarls. But then, almost as soon the words leave his mouth, his face relaxes. When he speaks again, his voice is the hissing, grinding crack of ice in deep winter. “You knew, and you said nothing. You had to know I’d find out eventually. Well played, Brendol Hux. Well played.” He sneers and turns away from Hux. 

“Don’t worry, Jyn. I don’t blame you for this man’s petty machinations. He’s always been too ready to play his own little games, forgetting the grand strategy of the Empire. I would be delighted to have you show me around _your_ academy.”

She bites her lip to stop herself from snickering at his description of Hux. It’s a little too close to being true to merit a laugh. Instead she just flicks her braid over her shoulder with a toss of her head. 

“I would be delighted to, sir. If you’d follow me, I’ll show you to the visiting officer’s quarters. I’m sure you’ll want to freshen up after the trip.” Behind Krennic, Hux nods approvingly. Krennic himself just grins. 

“Lead on, Cadet Erso”

The walk to the quarters is long and silent. The death troopers split off half way there when they pass trooper quarters, only two remaining to flank them down the quarters. Krennic stalks quietly at her side, and she can feel the wind his cape kicks up. When they get to the door to his temporary quarters she pauses. 

“I can come back in an hour or so if you’d like the chance to clean up, sir.” 

Krennic brushes at his tunic, cleaning some invisible mark off of the gleaming white fabric. He steps closer, so close that she can smell cloves and tabac. 

“Oh no, _Cadet Erso_. The Commandant said you’re to be my particular aid while I’m here. I’d like to get to know you a bit better.” He lets the door encode itself to his code cylinders and pushes his way inside. “Well, come in.”

Jyn steps inside. The wide sitting room is almost double the size of her and Anya’s room, and she wonders, just for an instant, if this is how all upper officer’s quarters are, or if Krennic is something special. The door slides shut behind her. 

He’s over to her in an instant, a hand shooting out tip her chin upward. She stands her ground. His grasp is almost bruising, leather cold on her face. His eyes are too blue, glittering in the dim artificial lighting. 

“Jyn Erso. I’d almost forgotten your first name, child.” 

“I’m not a child.” 

“No, I suppose you’re not anymore. A young cadet. One of our brightest. Your parents would be _so_ proud.” Jyn tears herself away now, takes a step closer, so they’re almost touching.

“My parents left with Saw Gerrera, who in turn left me in a bunker as a child, not caring if I was shot to pieces by the stormtroopers about to take control. I’m not sure I want to do anything they’d be proud of.” He chuckles, steps away. She watches as he prowls the room, a loth cat. 

“You remember me?” There’s a rustle, and he pulls a box out of his pocket. She nods. 

“Orson Krennic. I guess you’re Director Krennic to me now, though.” He pulls out a cigarette, and the sparker flashes once, the curves of his cheekbones standing bright in his narrow face. Jyn shivers at the smell of cloves. Her heart twists. It’s the smell of home. 

“You’re Jyn Erso. I’m always going to be Orson to you.” He tips his head back and blows smoke into the air. “In private, that is.”

“I can’t imagine there will be much opportunity for me to use your name, sir.” Jyn can’t help the way she leans in. She’d forgotten about the warmth of tabac on her father’s skin after Krennic used to visit. She’d forgotten about watching through the cracks in the doors as Krennic and her mother debated the rules of the universe. 

She’d forgotten that she’d learned the truth from Krennic, overheard and never meant for her, but hers all the same, years and years ago. 

_“If people believe in the Empire, military victory over Separatist holdouts and malcontents is inevitable.”_

He’d told her mother that. And her mother had never believed. But Jyn does. Jyn knows. 

“I wouldn’t bet on that. An up and coming young officer like you? There are positions available for people like you, Jyn.” He grins at her, holding out the cigarette. “Would you like a taste?” 

Jyn hesitates. Hux had said to be careful. _Remember your position_. She’s the head of the Commandant’s Cadets. She is the best the Empire has to offer. Her loyalty should be to Hux. He raised her up from the darkness and the dirt. 

She takes the cigarette.

Orson Krennic raised her up first. It is because of him that she is here. She remembers it now. He saved her from having to scrabble for endless days on Lah’mu, and that gave her the start that led her here. She raises the cig to her lips, feels his eyes follow her fingers. Her lips wrap around the butt. The smoke is harsh as she holds it in her mouth, then drinks it down. It whittles her out, stripping her down to Jyn Erso.

She breathes out.

“Good?” His eyes glitter as she passes the cigarette back. She nods. Better than good. The best she’s felt in as long as she can remember. He licks across the paper she’s just wet with her lips. “So Jyn. How did you end up here? Brendol Hux isn’t known for his interest in the children of Imperial scientists.”

“He was the only Commandant willing to take me after Saw Gerrera abandoned me and the stormtroopers found me… did you say Imperial scientist?” He laughs, voice rich with smoke.

“Oh Jyn, dear Jyn Erso.” He takes a long drag at the cigarette. “An Imperial scientist indeed. Under my command. You didn’t know?”

She shakes her head blankly. She knew... She knew he’d joined Krennic all those years ago. But she’d scoured the databases the moment she had access to them here. And she’d found only empty files and firewalls. 

“I suppose he is rather well hidden.” Krennic stubs out the cigarette on the sideboard, the wood hissing under the cherry. “But I assure you, he’s doing his part. Just as you are, it seems.”

“Can I see him?” She blurts out, too quick. 

“Oh Jyn, Jyn, Jyn.” Krennic smirks. She can hear an echo behind his voice. _Lyra_ it seems to say. “You’re a cadet now. You’ve got the same rules as the rest of us. It’d be more than your or my life is worth to break them.” 

He pauses, stalks around her. Jyn doesn’t turn to follow him. The cigarette still smolders on the sideboard, dark flickering light. When he speaks again, Krennic’s voice comes from right over her shoulder.

“Of course, I might be able to arrange for you to end up on my staff. Then you’d have a chance to see him. I’d want a few things in return.” His breath is hot on her skin. She tosses her hair, and she can feel her braid slap across his chest. 

“Such as?”

“Everything you know about whatever Brendol Hux is planning with the cadets here. Everything you remember about Saw Gerrera.” He circles her, and Jyn shivers as he leans in to whisper in her ear. “Your loyalty, Jyn Erso.”

“That’s a lot to ask, just for something I might be able to achieve on my own.” She stiffens her spine.

“Your precious Commandant isn’t going to get you to Galen. I promise you that. And Jyn?” He smirks at her, “I know the truth. Your loyalty was mine when I walked out of that shuttle. Your loyalty was mine nineteen years ago when I rescued you and your parents from Vallt. Brendol Hux has only been keeping it safe for me for a little while.”

Jyn’s throat clicks as she swallows. Her face feels hot.

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Orson?” This time, his lip curls up in something truer than a smirk. 

“You can start with Brendol Hux and his plans. That should occupy us until lunch is served, should it not?”

Jyn nods. His eyes are an ice choked sea, and she’s drowning. She wonders if she was ever on land to begin with.

***

Her new uniform is heavier than the tunic she wore as a cadet. Jyn likes the way it sits on her shoulders, the fabric bracketing her bones in prestige and authority. She’s so much more than the girl cowering in the bunker, and she can feel that now. 

She takes a deep breath. The shuttle rattles as settles down. She stands, moving to her place in front of the incoming detachment of stormtroopers she has temporary command of. The shuttle hisses open and she steps into the hangar.

The Death Star.

She’d never imagined this as what Orson had been hinting at two years ago, when he’d told her of the Empire’s grand project. She’d never thought he could have meant something like this. It’s incredible. 

She looks up to the vaulted ceiling of the hangar, to the Imperial cog fluttering on a banner high above her.

Jyn won’t have nightmares in this place. She’s sure of it. There are no nightmares to be had in a world made of metal and the power of the strongest stars themselves. She marches across the deck. 

“Lieutenant Erso reporting to station duty as ordered!” Jyn scans her cylinders. The duty officer scans over the information appearing on the console. 

“Looks in order, Lieutenant. Your troopers will go to assigned duty stations and quarters. You’ve been given quarters on level A-21. You’ll find directions loaded onto your datapad. I suggest going there at once. You may have pending messages and duties.” Jyn smiles at him and stalks off to the lift. 

The ride to A-21 seems endless, and she wonders if it’s actually on the other side of the sphere. But that seems unlikely, and when she checks her chronometer only ten minutes have passed. The doors of the lift open and Jyn steps out into a long corridor that curves away into the distance. It’s lined with doors, each with a name affixed. 

She starts walking. Lieutenants and Commanders, each with their own quarters. It’s a nice posting, this. To get her own room at the start of her career? It wasn’t something she expected. She shakes her braid over her shoulder. Her own room should be somewhere up ahead, if she’s correct in reading the schematics on her datapad. 

She slows, reading each name carefully. Finally she comes to her own with a little thrill in the pit of her stomach. This is hers. This is a place just of her own, not a shared bunkroom, not a sweaty pit of rebels. No, this is Jyn Erso’s place. She encodes the door and watches as it recognizes her identification. 

The door slides open. Inside, it’s dark, and Jyn sets down her case to wave on the lights. 

“Hello, Jyn.” She jumps. He’s sitting on the bed, cape spread out behind himself, elbows on his knees.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And miss welcoming the newest member of my command?” He stands. He’s over to her in two steps, reaching down to tilt her face upward by her chin. “And you’re not just the newest member of the Death Star station, are you, Jyn Erso? You’re special.”

She doesn’t pull away. She’s spoken to Orson Krennic many times over the past two years. Those first days on Arkanis, when she’d pledged herself to his faction in the eternal struggle between different groups in the Empire, and then time and time again after that, as she learned just what she’d gotten herself into. 

She’s had enough time to wonder about what this moment will be like. She’s had enough time to decide what she will do. She peers up at him from underneath her cap. 

“I am special, Orson. You, of all people, should know that.” He laughs, low and muttering. He releases her chin with a little shake and pulls out his cigarette case from his pocket. 

“Share with me?”

Jyn nods, and he lights the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and she can feel the whisper of smoke against her skin as he exhales. He ashes onto her floor. 

“Open up, Jyn.” Krennic reaches out, sets the cigarette on her lips. His fingers press against them, holding it in place. Jyn closes her mouth around it, breathes in the taste of his fingers, of cloves, of home. She grins as he pulls it away from her mouth.

“It’s nice to see you again, Orson. I was afraid you were going to take my loyalty and run away, never to be seen again.”

“I don’t run out on Ersos. Least of all, you.” He holds the cig between his lips and tugs off his leather gloves to drop them on the floor. Jyn does the same. 

She feels oddly exposed like this, hands bare for his inspection. Orson lifts one, runs his fingers across the narrow curves of her knuckles. 

“No hard work for you, Jyn?” She flips her hand over in answer, shows him the blaster calluses there. He nods. “As it should be.” he strokes at her palm, tracing the hardened skin and thick ridges that mark out the grip of her blaster. Jyn shivers. 

“I’m glad to have you here. You’re rare, you know?”

“Because I’m an Erso?” Krennic laughs, sides heaving. 

“Well, yes, Jyn. That does make you special beyond words. But I was thinking of the fact that you’re one of the few people I trust is truly on my side.” She flushes. 

“I’m not sure you should place that must trust in me, sir. I’m notoriously irresponsible.”

“So am I.” He steps closer, cig falling to get ground out underneath his heel. Then he’s so close Jyn can almost taste his breath. 

“I’m feeling irresponsible right now, Jyn.” His fingers comes up to brush over her cheek. They feel like they burn with heat, but Jyn wonders if maybe Orson is cold enough to burn. She shakes off the feeling. If that’s the question, she too is guilty. She steps closer.

“Yes, Director? I’m afraid I’m going to need a visible representation of what it means to be…” She trails off as Orson finally presses his lips to hers. Jyn gasps. 

She’s been kissed before. Once by one of Saw’s rebels - Saw had torn the man off of Jyn, and Jyn had escaped without a scratch. Three times with other cadets - Anya and Searle and a small boy who never made it into the Commandant’s Cadets. But this is different. 

Orson’s tongue teases at hers, and slowly slips inside her mouth. He sucks at her bottom lip, teeth digging into it. His hands wrap around her waist, pulling her against him. His cape falls around them, and the world fades around them as Jyn closes her eyes. Orson bites at her lip, achingly hard, and she can’t help the moan that spills against his mouth. He pulls back just far enough that she has to try to chase his mouth. 

“I’d wondered if you’d like that, Jyn.” His hands move to her waist, to the wide belt. 

“You’ve been thinking about this?” Jyn shivers as he flicks open the clasp of the belt, letting it fall to the ground. Her tunic billows out, loose.

“You haven’t? All those holocalls late at night?” He leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I know you, Jyn Erso. I know what you want. I know what you need. Do you want me to show you?”

“Cocky.” She mutters, reaching up to let the cape free of his shoulders. It ripples down to settle on the floor, a white sea around them. “What makes you think I want you?”

“You do.” His fingers flutter across her back, pulling her collar down a little so he can kiss at her neck. Jyn finds the place that the seal of his tunic starts, runs her fingers down it to let it fall open. 

“Maybe I want to see what I’m getting myself into. Look before I leap?”

“What happened to being irresponsible?” Orson asks, but he shrugs off his tunic. Underneath it he’s lightly tanned, a little hair scattered across his chest. Jyn traces her fingers down the curve of his waist. He’s thin, soft. His is the body of a man who works with his mind, not his hands. She digs her fingers into his side, watches as he squirms. She wonders what it would feel like to nuzzle against the trail of hair leading down to his trousers. Maybe she’ll find out sometime soon. 

“Like what you see?” She nods, holds tighter to his waist. “My turn now.”

He trails his fingers across her shoulder, then pulls away. In an instant, he’s behind her, fingers busying themselves with her collar as he leans over her shoulder. His breath is hot on her cheek.

“So how do you like my masterpiece? It’s truly the greatest achievement of my Empire.” He opens up her tunic, and Jyn shivers as he lets it fall away.

“ _Your Empire_ , Orson?” He traces careful fingers across the curve of her belly, coming up to cup her breasts through her undershirt. “Shouldn’t that be ‘the’ Empire?”

“I have the Death Star.” He noses at the spot behind her ear. “I have the greatest power in the galaxy.”

“You don’t even know if it works.” 

“I will not fail.” He pinches at her nipples, hard, and Jyn arches back against him, into his mouth as he bites at her neck. 

“So confident.” He pulls off her tunic, then slides the undershirt and bra off after it. 

“I have good reason to be.” Orson presses against her, and Jyn feels his cock against her ass, half hard, thick. 

“What do you want, Director? If you have all this, what do you want?” She rocks her hips back against him. He spins her around, hands coming to her ass as he pulls her into his arms. 

“You. I have your loyalty, Jyn. I want the rest of you, if you’ll have me.”

This time, Jyn leans into the kiss, presses her lips to his first. It’s smoke sweet, and she pushes him backward towards the bed. He stumbles a little, but grabs her tighter to him and recovers. Then he flips them, and Jyn bounces a little as she lands on the bed. He kneels down in front of her, spreads her legs apart. 

“Is that a yes?” He reaches up to the clasp of her trousers. Jyn bites her lip. 

“Yes.” He smiles, and it’s brighter than the sun. Then his fingers trace her through her trousers and Jyn gasps. 

Something about the sound must set him off, because the next thing she knows, her trousers are pooling around her ankles, her boots lying on the floor. 

“Lie back, and put your legs over my shoulders.” Orson tells her, fingers tracing circles on her inner thighs. Jyn collapses onto the bed. Then she whimpers, trying to bite back the noise. Orson is nosing at the soaked fabric of her panties. 

“Want me, do you?”

“I want to see what you can do with that big mouth of yours, Orson.” Jyn grins at how steady her voice is. But then he pulls her panties to one side, and his tongue flicks out. It’s soft and warm, and so different from her fingers, from Anya’s or Searle’s. He licks along her cunt until he reaches her clit, kitten strokes that aren’t nearly hard enough to do more than tease. 

“You taste lovely, Jyn. I’m going to lick you till you’re shaking, gonna drink you down. And then I’m going fuck you. Do you want that?” 

“Big words. Show me you can carry through and we’ll fuck.” He snarls against her, then Jyn gasps as he sucks hard at her clit. His tongue teases at her, flicking over and over against her. Jyn digs her fingers into her own sides, then lets one slide upward to grope at her breasts. 

“Fuck. Orson. Keep going.” He doesn’t pull away, just keeps licking, rhythmic and steady. His fingers tease at her cunt, just beneath his chin. The tip of one slides inside her, and Jyn gasps. Her stomach is tight, and she can feel the pressure building at the base of her spine. She pulls her other hand off her thigh, runs it through his silver hair. 

She tugs lightly, and he moans against her. It’s enough that her hips stutter forward, a shiver running through her. There’s fire running through her veins, need flooding her. He licks harder, flat of his tongue pressing against her clit. It’s so much, her thighs shaking uncontrollably as he sucks at her. 

“Yes. Just.. A little more. Fuck. Orson.” She groans out. He pushes his finger the rest of the way inside her, and then it crashes over her. Suddenly everything disappears down to the feeling of his tongue against her, the throb of blood in her veins, the heat of pleasure crawling up her joints. Her thighs squeeze tighter around him as she arches up into his mouth. 

It’s long moments before he pulls back. Jyn lets her thighs fall open, loose and pliant. His chin shines, and as she watches, his tongue flicks out to lick his lips clean. 

“You going to fuck me now, Director?” She gasps out, voice rough. 

“Eager, are you?”

“I want to know if your cock feels as good as your mouth.”

“Better.” He pulls off his own trousers, and she gets her first look at his cock. It’s thick, maybe not as long as Searle’s, but wide and curving upward to his belly. He cups his balls. 

“Like what you see?” Jyn smiles lazily at him. 

“Show me what you can do with it, and I’ll like your cock even more.” He snarls. Then he’s reaching down to roll her over. 

“Ass in the air, Jyn. Spread those legs for me.” Jyn arches her back, still loose from her orgasm. The bed dips as Orson clambers on. His hand comes down to squeeze at her ass and she presses her face to the comforter. It’s funny, in a way, that this is the first time she uses her bed on the Death Star, getting fucked by its director. Strangely appropriate. Then Orson’s cock presses against her cunt and she moans. 

“Ready?” He asks.

“Yes. Fuck, Orson, now.” She presses back. He chuckles. Then his cock is pressing insider her. Jyn shivers. She’s still tight from coming, and his cock is wide, stretching her out. She bites her lip. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Jyn. Fuck. Better than I expected.” He pulls out a little of the way, then pushes back into her. He’s deep, and Jyn shakes a little as he starts to fuck her. His hands are tight around her hips, pulling her back to him. 

“You like being inside me, Orson? Do you like fucking your little, loyal lieutenant Erso?” He groans, fingers coming to tease at her clit again. 

“Yes. Shit. You’re perfect.” Jyn gasps for breath as he slams harder into her, pace almost frantic. She doesn’t think she can come again, but his fingers work her clit fast and hard, and she’s getting close. 

“Do you like seeing me underneath you, Director?” He groans at the title. “I bet you do. I bet you love this, Jyn Erso getting fucked into her mattress.” His hips stutter, hands clenching hard on her. 

“Fuck. I’m going to come Jyn. Fuck.” She shudders, his cock hitting that spot inside her that makes sparks dance in front of her eyes. 

“Fill me up, Orson. Come in me. Fuck. Now. Come for me now.” He whimpers, slams into her one more time. Then she can feel the heat of his come as he lets go. There’s a long moment where he holds her hips up against his. Then he collapses down onto the bed, rolling them both onto their sides so that he’s spooned around her. His fingers come up to press at her lips. She can taste herself on them when she sucks them inside. He kisses at the back of her neck. 

“Good, Jyn?”

“Good, Orson.” She settles herself back against the softness of his chest, warm in the press of his arms. His breathing slows behind her. His lips stop their slow tracery of her skin. She lets his fingers slip from her mouth. His arm is a heavy weight around her waist.

Jyn is almost asleep when her com chimes from across the room. She struggles out from Orson’s embrace, pressing a kiss against his forehead as he moans a little, but doesn’t open his eyes. When she finds her com in the puddle of clothes on the floor, her eyes widen. 

_Commandant Brendol Hux, one incoming call._

She glances back at the bed. Orson has rolled onto his stomach, the curve of his ass and the arch of his back on display. She smiles absently as she listens to him breathe for a few long seconds.

The door across the room proves to be the fresher. She closes and locks the door behind her, then hops up onto the sink, still naked. She resets the holo to show only her shoulders and face, then accepts the call. 

“Jyn.” The volume is low, but Hux’s voice comes clearly through the speakers.

“Commandant.” He cocks his head to one side, and Jyn can’t stop herself from smoothing her hair down under his searching gaze.

“You’re on board the Death Star, then?” She nods. 

“Have you spoken to Director Krennic yet?”

“Yes. He was waiting for me when I got to my quarters.”

“And what did you say to him.”

“That he has my loyalty. What else would I say?”

“Good, Jyn. See that he believes you.”

“Of course.”

“And Jyn? Remember who you truly are. You’re one of the Commandant’s Cadets. I saved you from prison, from the life of a criminal grubbing in the dirt. Remember your position. Some day you will have to choose for real. Remember who you are.”

Jyn swallows. When she’d pledged herself to Orson two years ago, she’d had no idea what she was throwing herself into. Now she knows a little better. Now the boundaries of loyalty are fuzzier.

“Yes, sir. I’ll remember.”

“And Jyn?” Hux cocks his head to one side, purses his lips. “You might want to cover that mark on your neck before you go on duty.” The com clicks off. 

Jyn sits there for long moments after Hux disconnects the call. Her fingers come up to find the sore spot high on her throat. Then she slides down off the sink and makes her way out to where Orson sleeps in her bed. 

_Be careful of him_. Hux’s voice echoes in her head as she slides back into his arms. 

_Remember who you are._

**Author's Note:**

> \+ I meant this to be finished for the AU day of [jynnicweek](http://jynnicweek.tumblr.com/) but it spiraled a little out of control. Well, c'est la vie.
> 
> \+ Jyn is 19 and 21 in this, in case anyone was wondering.
> 
> +A few lines are quoted from the RO novelization. 
> 
> \+ Yeah, I kinda messed with some details of the Imperial academy. It's an AU, after all!
> 
> \+ Come hang with me and talk about the Director and his Erso obsession over on tumblr [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
